Page 20 of Mountain of Mirrors and Starlight
“I’m worried about Ais,” Beau admitted.
“Your sister is a competent hunter. One of our finest,” Hawthorn said, as if he hadn’t had a tracking spell placed on her the first three times she went out alone and had her privately followed, and as if Beau hadn’t overheard him trying to talk her into taking someone with her.
He understoodwhyshe wanted to go alone, of course.
He just wished she understood why they really, really didn’t want her to.
“I don’t doubt her skills,” Beau insisted.
“What do you doubt, then?”
“I don’t know. The world, I suppose.”
“That I understand.”
Some important courtier appeared shortly afterwards, and Hawthorn’s attention was taken once more. Beau had no idea how the diplomatic relations were going; he had an interest, but Hawthorn always tried to keep him out of it. “It’s not that I don’t trust you,” he insisted. “I just rather want you to enjoy your youth. You’re doing a poor job of it so far. Be wilder.”
Beau was not very good at being wild.
Finding himself incapable of relaxing, he decided to go to the library, determined to try and find a book to lose himself in. He started up the steps, passing by the king’s room as he did so.
Someone was talking inside it.
He paused. Owen was supposed to be outside. He supposed it could be someone else—
Beau leaned against the door.
“It’s all going fine, I assure you. We’ll have him back in no time.”
It definitelysoundedlike Owen, but who was he talking to? And why had he had to sneak off to do so? There were no guards posted outside. Whoever he was speaking to, he didn’t want anyone overhearing.
Wherever he went, guards followed. Why was the king sneaking around?
Beau listened more carefully, but he could not make out the voice of the other speaker.
“I know you’re growing impatient. I am too. You are not the only one keen to see this through. The girl will find him, and if not, I am certain her father will go after her… You do not need to worry. I won’t give him a choice.”
The room fell quiet for a moment.
“I understand,” said Owen’s measured voice. “I will not let you down.”
Footsteps crept towards the door, and Beau bolted backwards, cramming himself into an alcove and casting a quick invisibility glamour with a flick of his wrists.
It wouldn’t work on the fae, or a dwarf, or any mortal gifted with truesight—but it would work on Owen.
He swept past Beau with barely a pause.
No one exited the room after him.
Beau waited a while to be certain that no one was following, before remembering that he was invisible and it wouldn’t matter. He crept out of his hiding spot and tried the door.
Locked.
Beau shook his head, almost fondly. What faerie prince couldn’t unlock a standard mortal door with a bit of magic? It was a simple iron lock; easily fooled.
A few centuries ago, mortals had discovered that some of the lower fae had a weakness for iron and had built all number of things with it. No one had told them it didn’t work on high fae. Beau pressed his fingers to the lock and pushed it with his magic, as real and clear to him as a muscle in his hand. He could feel each jagged edge of the lock mechanism just waiting to be sprung.
He forced it open. The lock clicked.
